


Open Mouth, Insert Foot

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst and Humor, Apologies, Community: smallfandomfest, Costumes, M/M, Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor wants Becker to go to a party, but Becker has certain reservations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Mouth, Insert Foot

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the smallfandomfest prompt 'Becker/Connor, "I will not dress up as Princess Leia for you."'

Upon reflection, the whole situation had been a succession of several bad ideas, one after another.  
  
It had been a bad idea for Becker to agree to go to a fancy dress party with Connor. It had been an even worse idea to give that agreement before finding out that said fancy dress was supposed to be cross-dressing in nature. It had been a terrible idea to allow Connor to choose what costume Becker would wear to the party. And it had been the stupidest of stupid ideas not to engage his brain before speaking when he found out exactly what costume Connor had chosen.  
  
“Of course I won’t dress up as Princess Leia, Connor! Don’t be such an idiot.”  
  
And the memory of Connor’s hurt expression at his words was imprinted on Becker’s mind to the extent that he was even dreaming about it when he was asleep.  
  
Oh, of course Connor had tried to laugh the whole thing off, giving a patently forced chuckle and a mutter of, “No problem, it was just an idea.” And Becker knew that it wasn’t so much the rejection of the idea that had hurt Connor, but the way it had been phrased, and every time he remembered the cutting tone of voice he’d employed, Becker hated himself anew.  
  
All this had been three days ago, and although Connor was still staying in Becker’s flat – and indeed, still sharing Becker’s bed – it was like he wasn’t really there at all. He invariably seemed to be up and out of the flat before Becker in the mornings, and didn’t arrive back until late in the evening, when Becker was already in bed – impressive feats, considering that Becker always rose at 6:30am to go for a run, and rarely got home before 11pm, taking his job as ARC head of security as seriously as he did.  
  
And Connor was avoiding him at work too. Although this probably wasn’t obvious to anyone except Becker, as it had been a quiet week, anomaly-wise, and during quiet weeks Connor and the other scientists tended to bury themselves in their research, while Becker and his men concentrated on checking and inventorying equipment, carrying out drills and training, preventing Danny Quinn from ‘testing’ the security systems, and all the other things that stood down soldiers generally involved themselves in around the ARC.  
  
At least, Becker had thought it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.  
  
“What’s the matter with Connor?”  
  
Becker glanced up to find Abby standing in the doorway of his office, where he’d hidden himself away to get on with some of his paperwork backlog. “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to bluff it out even though he already knew that would never work with Abby.  
  
Abby narrowed her eyes and stepped properly into the room, closing the door behind her. Becker’s heart sank. He was obviously in for a proper telling-off.  
  
“You know exactly what I mean,” Abby said sternly. “You haven’t spoken to each other in about three days, and I want to know the reason why.”  
  
“That’s not true,” Becker protested, thinking back to the first morning after the ‘incident’, when he’d accosted Connor by the anomaly detector, said he was sorry, and asked if his lover was all right. But all he’d got in return, on that occasion, and later that same day when he’d tried again, was a quick, “I’m fine,” a weak smile, and pointed dismissal in the form of a turned back, or a claim of work to be got on with.  
  
“And everyone can see that he’s upset about something,” Abby continued, as if Becker hadn’t spoken. “Oh, he tries to be his normal bouncy self around me, and Danny, and Jenny, but we’re not blind. Something’s up with him.” She glared at Becker again. “And you know what it is.”  
  
Becker thought for a moment, and then decided to tell Abby what had happened. He honestly wasn’t sure what Connor’s problem was himself, and maybe Abby could shed some light on the matter. After all, she had known Connor for longer than he had.  
  
So he explained about the party, and Connor’s costume suggestion, and his rejection of it.  
  
Abby looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then asked, “And you agreed to Connor’s requests about the party and the costumes? All of them?”  
  
“Yes,” Becker replied.  
  
“And it hasn’t occurred to you that going back on your word might not have been the best thing you could have done?”  
  
“But…but…Princess Leia,” Becker protested. “You know what that means - gold bikini.”  
  
Abby’s eyes looked him up and down for a moment, and her lips twitched as if she was about to smile. “Yes, I’m not sure that’s really a look that would suit you,” she commented blandly.  
  
“Well, there’s no way I’m going to any party dressed like that!” Becker said hotly. “Besides, I don’t even really…”  
  
“…want to go at all?” Abby finished for him. “That doesn’t surprise me. But that means you only agreed to go because Connor really wants to. Which is generous of you, but you should know what Connor’s like by now. He takes things at face value. He will have assumed that you agreed to go because you wanted to go. Finding out that you didn’t really want to go at all will have hurt his feelings. And probably made him feel guilty, as I suspect he now thinks that he coerced you into it.” Abby sent another glare in Becker’s direction. “Calling him an idiot probably didn’t help matters either.”  
  
Becker sighed. “I have tried to apologise,” he said. “But he keeps giving me the brush off.”  
  
“Try again,” replied Abby bluntly. “And keep trying. Connor bruises easily. He needs to know that you really mean it.”  
  
“You’re right, of course,” Becker said, nodding. Then he risked a small smile. “I should have asked you for advice about dealing with Connor ages ago. You’re a fountain of knowledge when it comes to him.”  
  
“I did live with him for quite a while,” Abby said. “Plus, he is rather easy to read – if you bother to try,” she added pointedly.  
  
“Point taken,” Becker conceded. He grimaced. “All this still doesn’t mean I’m willing to prance around in a gold bikini. Even for Connor.”  
  
“Ever heard of compromise?” Abby said. “I’m sure Connor would be willing if you just talk to him.”  
  
“Okay, okay, talk to him, I get it,” said Becker, rolling his eyes.  
  
Abby nodded. “Good.”  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was late afternoon before Becker finally managed to get Connor alone. His lover seemed to have developed the knack of always surrounding himself with other people – first the technician he got to help him re-calibrate the ADD, then Danny, who seemed determined to extend Connor’s lunch hour as much as possible with a conversation about the merits of the different Star Trek series (having been subjected to them all by Connor, Becker definitely keenest on Deep Space Nine, but Danny appeared to be a fan of the original series. Which just figured, really.), and finally, everyone else when Lester dragged them all into a lengthy meeting at 2pm. Becker had spent a significant amount of the meeting trying to catch Connor’s eye, while Connor had spent just as much time avoiding Becker’s.  
  
But eventually, when the meeting was finally over and everyone had dispersed, Becker had run Connor to ground in the break room, where he was making coffee.  
  
“Enough in the kettle for another cup?” Becker asked, as casually as he could.  
  
Connor jumped, and then glanced over his shoulder at him. “Sure,” he muttered, pulling another mug out of the cupboard. Becker counted that a small victory – Connor could just have easily said no. Or ignored him.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
Silence fell as Connor paid far more attention to the brewing kettle than it really deserved, and Becker tried to think what to say next. It was all very well Abby telling him to talk to Connor, but why couldn’t she also have told him exactly what to say?  
  
“Coffee’s ready,” said Connor abruptly, and it was Becker’s turn to startle. He hadn’t realised how much time had passed while he’d been thinking.  
  
Connor gestured to the steaming mug on the counter, obviously expecting Becker to come and fetch it. But Becker didn’t move. He was currently standing in front of the break room door, and he knew the moment he left it unguarded Connor would be gone.  
  
“Connor, I’m sorry,” he said bluntly.  
  
Connor didn’t say anything in reply.  
  
“I think you just caught me a little by surprise,” Becker offered.  
  
“What exactly are you sorry about?” Connor demanded suddenly.  
  
“Er…” Becker thought for fast. “Well, for calling you an idiot, obviously. Sorry.”  
  
“And?”  
  
Damn. He wasn’t being let off the hook, then.  
  
“For not telling you the truth about the party,” Becker conceded.  
  
“You could have just told me you didn’t want to go, you know,” Connor said.  
  
“But I knew you really wanted to go,” Becker replied. “You seemed so excited. And you seemed like you really wanted me to go too.”  
  
“I did.” Connor looked faintly embarrassed. “Believe it or not, I kind of wanted to show off my hot boyfriend to everyone.”  
  
“Bit difficult to show anyone off when we’re all dressed as girls.” The words slipped out before Becker could stop them, and he mentally cursed himself. He was supposed to be apologising here.  
  
But Connor appeared to be considering what he’d said. “You’ve got a point, I suppose,” he said slowly. “But still…”  
  
“You really wanted to go,” Becker said.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“It’s important to you.”  
  
“Yes. But I’m not going to drag you if you don’t want to go. That would be no fun for either of us.”  
  
Becker thought for a moment, and then decided what the hell. “I do want to go.”  
  
Connor looked surprised. Then, “No, you don’t,” he said.  
  
“Yes, I do,” Becker insisted. He tried a quick smile. “I want you to show me off to your friends.”  
  
“But like you said, you’ll be dressed as a girl,” Connor said doubtfully.  
  
“I’m sure my natural masculinity will shine through.”  
  
That got a laugh out of Connor, and he suddenly shifted from his position by the counter and walked towards Becker.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Becker smiled again. “Yes. Definitely. Although…”  
  
“What?”  
  
Becker steeled himself. “Could we maybe have a quick chat about costumes? I was talking to Abby earlier, and she advised a compromise…”  
  
“Wait, you were talking to Abby about this? Why were you…actually, you know what?” Connor interrupted himself, upon seeing Becker’s expression, “I suspect it was probably her talking to you, right?”  
  
“Something like that,” Becker admitted.  
  
“She can be a bit protective at times,” Connor said.  
  
“You’re telling me!”  
  
“Anyway,” Connor continued. “Compromise. I think we can manage that. What did you have in mind?”  
  
“Well, you mentioned Princess Leia as a possible costume choice,” Becker started hesitantly. “And I was wondering whether maybe…possibly…we could go more for a New Hope look than a Return of the Jedi look?”  
  
“What do you mean? What on earth are you talk…oh, hang on a minute, you thought…” Connor suddenly burst out laughing. “You thought I was talking about the gold bikini, didn’t you?”  
  
“Um, well…”  
  
“You so did!”  
  
“That’s the image that people always seem to go for!” Becker defended himself.  
  
It took several more moments for Connor to get his laughter under control. “Look, I’m not saying that Carrie Fisher doesn’t look good in it,” he said eventually, the occasional hiccupping chuckle still interrupting his words. “But that’s kind of the point - Carrie Fisher looks good.” He looked Becker up and down in much the same way that Abby had done earlier. “No offence, but I really don’t think you could pull that look off. In fact…” Connor shuddered theatrically. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”  
  
“Hey!” Becker protested, and then realised he really wasn’t helping his case.  
  
Connor grinned. “I was thinking New Hope all along, actually,” he said. Then he leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “I’ve always found Leia much sexier in that white robe than in the bikini.”  
  
“Really?” Becker raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Yeah. Leaves more to the imagination.”  
  
“With the hair and everything?”  
  
“Especially the hair.”  
  
“You’re really very strange sometimes, Connor,” Becker told him.  
  
Connor shrugged, still grinning. “I know. So, do you think you can cope with a costume like that?”  
  
“I think I can manage,” Becker replied, privately thinking that it would be about a million times better than any bikini, gold or otherwise.  
  
Connor tilted his head slightly, looking at Becker appraisingly. “You know, I think that hairdo will suit you…”  
  
Becker sighed and rolled his eyes. “There are going to be pictures of me, aren’t there?”  
  
“Oh, undoubtedly.”  
  
“Fine,” Becker said, knowing when he was involved in a battle he couldn’t win. “Just please don’t let my men see them. They have to be able to take me seriously.”  
  
“I’ll try,” Connor promised, although the mischievous look in his eyes indicated that he wouldn’t be trying very hard.  
  
Becker sighed again, and gave up.  
  
“Oh, but we still have something left to decide,” Connor said then.  
  
“And what’s that?” Becker asked warily, wondering what he was letting himself in for now.  
  
“What I’m going to wear to the party. Did you have any thoughts about that?”  
  
“You mean you want me to…?”  
  
“It’s only fair,” Connor told him. “You should choose my costume.”  
  
“Oh. Well, if you’re sure?”  
  
Connor nodded enthusiastically – too enthusiastically, in Becker’s opinion. “Of course.”  
  
“All right, then.” Becker thought for a moment, and then grinned. “Actually, I do have one or two ideas…”


End file.
